Despite the current, we bravely crossed the river. A fisherman helped us drag the bikes ashore, and in return, we helped him get his boat onto the roof of his car. That was the end of our adventures for the day — there was practically nothing left to our overnight base. The next day, one of our team members left us, and it was just Garik and me left. Riding dirt roads was boring, so I planned our favorite: some forest MTB. The area was unfamiliar, so you could expect literally anything. As it turned out, we were in for an absolutely unbelievable amount of horseflies, mud, thickets, and generally the toughest conditions we ever face, aside from rain, maybe. I was cursing constantly because the puddles were unreal, the mud was getting stuck everywhere it possibly could, and keeping the bike from riding properly. We got stung by nettles, were totally bitten up, and spent a monstrous amount of effort. It would have been the hardest MTB ride ever, if not for my trip in Italy described in the previous parts.
Nevertheless, we eventually made it out of the swamp, bought some smoked fish (from Belarus) in a village, and headed to the lakeshore for lunch. We even managed to go for a swim. Our buddy offered to pick us up at the border at eight, so we tried not to dawdle. Unfortunately, a three-meter-high wire fence appeared in our path, and a detour was another ten kilometers, if not twenty. A farmer we met had warned us there was a fence waiting for us, but we decided to check for ourselves anyway. By the way, a goose was following the farmer around like it was tied to him, and the guy told us the goose goes everywhere with him, on whatever errands.
The fence itself had menacing signs saying entry was forbidden and that it was some sort of hunting? territory. We had a typical guy problem: a lot of bravery, and not much brains. Naturally, we climbed over the fence, and dragged the bikes with us too. And all because we didn't want to let down our buddy, who by our estimates should have already been on his way. So we're riding through a dense thicket, thinking a bullet is going to hit us any second. We had no idea what this place actually was. Eventually we made it to the exit, which was mercifully only bolted shut, so we didn't have to scale three meters with the bikes again. Looking around shiftily, we left the territory. Then we found a "Safari Park" sign and finally realized what this place was: we were never at risk of dying after all.
